A Matter of Doing

[lesyeuxverts]

Title: A Matter of Doing
Author: lesyeuxverts
Word Count: 956
Rating: R
Pairing: Snape/Bill
Prompt: potions
Warnings: none really ... a bit of fluff
Disclaimer: Not mine.
AN: For angela_snape - happy holidays!



There was a time when Snape wouldn't have minded being shown up. After he'd been bitten by Nagini and half-killed by Potter's ineptitude, he spent the better part of a year in bed - some of the time he was delirious and raving with fever, but the rest of the time, he was simply weaker than a kitten and just as incapable of brewing.

He'd tolerated the slop that the incompetents at St. Mungo's made then. He had tolerated the fact that the swill that they called potions was replacing his own superior stock. Poppy Pomfrey hadn't used anything else in the Hogwarts Infirmary since Snape became a professor there - he told them that, speaking at great length on the subject in his delirium. He was forced to rely on half-wits and numb-fingered dolts for survival, but so be it. He had survived.

Now that he was well, Snape refused to be shown up and shoved aside again. Certainly, no Weasley would best him ... no one with that idiotic grin and ridiculous, showy hair would be able to brew a better potion than he could. He simply wouldn't stand for it.

It was another story entirely when Bill moved into his flat, unannounced, on drizzly January day. He thumped a poinsettia down on Snape's coffee table, and as it was shedding leaves and stray bits of dirt everywhere, he unpacked the rest of his belongings with a flick of his wand. "Mum sent leftovers from Christmas dinner," he said. "You look like you could use a bite to eat, Professor."

"What are you-"

"Fleur kicked me out," Bill said. "Mum seemed to think that you needed someone to take care of you. Harry asked, you see, so here I am."

"That brat had better-"

Bill grinned - a slow, lazy grin that lit up his blue eyes. "I think Harry'll be doing just about exactly what he wants to do from now on, Professor. I expect he's had enough people telling him what to do already."

"If you think you can just waltz in here and disrupt my life-"

Shrugging, Bill Banished the dirt that had been shaken onto the floor, sending the stray poinsettia leaves into oblivion with it. "It's not so much a matter of thinking," he said. "It's a matter of doing."

That seemed to be that, as far as Weasley was concerned - he bumbled into Severus's cozy flat and started moving things around, replacing ancient and priceless potions tomes with cheery Muggle novels, putting knick-knacks and photos where the place had been austere and tasteful. He never asked - he just did it.

The end of Severus's patience came when Weasley moved down into the potions lab, taking over Severus's work table and cutting up ingredients with careless grace.

"If you think you can-"

The silver knife gleamed in the low lights of the work room, the candles flickering in their sconces on the wall, and Bill's teeth gleamed when he smiled up at Snape. "Someone needs to brew your potions for you," he said. "Sit down, old man."

"I most certainly am not old," Snape said, "and if you think that you can just-"

"I can and I will." Bill stood and stalked over to Snape, putting both hands on his shoulders and forcing him down into a chair. "Feel free to sit and watch," he said. "Criticize my technique. Tell me that I'm doing everything wrong. Shout and give me a dozen detentions, if you like."

Snape clenched his hands into fists, hiding them in the billows of his robe. "Why are you doing this?"

Bill went back to chopping up his Peruvian Shrivel-fig into even, perfect slices. After a moment, he looked up at Snape. "After everything you've done," he said, "don't you think it's high time that someone looked after you, instead of the other way around?"

He blew a lock of stray hair out of his face and went back to his chopping when Snape didn't say anything - but he was not quite so intolerable for the rest of the day, and managed to brew a perfectly respectable batch of Pepper-Up. Snape found that he didn't mind so much, being shown up ... it wasn't that he wasn't capable of brewing the potion and running his own successful owl-order potions business, it was that he had delegated.

Bill laughed and agreed, and promised to be the one to tell his mother. "I thought it would never work," he said, stealing a kiss. "But ... all's well that ends well."

He kissed the same way he moved into Severus's life, rearranging his furniture and his potions – Bill didn't ask, he simply did, and Severus found that he didn't mind. Much.

He pulled away from the kiss and perched on his high stool, arms crossed over his chest as he glared at Bill. "Add more chopped vervain to that Pepper-Up and stir twice counter-clockwise."

"Yes, sir," Bill said, blowing him a mock kiss. He finished the potion with alacrity and moved to stand in front of Severus. "Anything else I can do for you? Show you the way up to your bedroom?"

"If you've rearranged that as well–"

"No," Bill said, his breath warm against Severus's neck as he leaned in close. "But I thought you might like some help. You deserve it."

Severus considered the offer and took Bill's hand. If Weasley was willing – and if his technique in bed was equal to his technique in the potions lab – it was worth a try, if it was just a matter of doing. "Fine," he said, leaning close enough to let his voice rumble in Bill's ear. "Show me up to the bedroom, then."

Comments

[lesyeuxverts.insanejournal.com]

Thank you!